What Should I Pay the Pastor for My Wedding?
The best man strode toward me after the wedding service. Pale, skinny, and so young, he wore a rented tuxedo that made him look like an extra in a slasher film that ended badly at a prom. He stopped in front of me.
“Thanks for doing Tommy’s wedding.”
“You’re welcome,” I said.
He reached into a jacket pocket and handed me a folded envelope. “Tommy wanted you to have this.”
I slipped the envelope into the Bible I held.
“Gotta take pictures for the wedding party thing,” he said as he retreated. “Thanks, again.”
Since the wedding was for the granddaughter of a long-time church member, I knew many in attendance. I socialized, then moseyed over to where pictures were being taken and posed for a photo with the newlyweds. It was a Saturday and I left before the reception. I still had work to do on tomorrow’s sermon.
I glanced in the envelope as I headed for my car. No note or card. Other than my name in purple ink on the outside, nothing personal. One Alexander Hamilton and three George Washingtons rested inside. Hamilton, a signer of the Declaration of Independence, is worth ten dollars.
A skinny kid in a shiny tuxedo had given me $13 in cold cash.
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I’m now a retired pastor, but occasionally get this question from acquaintances and those finding me on social media: What should I pay the pastor for my wedding?
Some churches I’ve served had guidelines for building use by outsiders; details for weddings and funerals were clearly spelled out. Other churches left decisions to the minister.
I’ve always assumed if you were a church member, you had no obligation to pay. I was your pastor. For others, I often asked people to pay what they could, but make the check for the Pastor’s Discretionary Fund. Any wedding income contributed to the church’s support for those with emergency needs.
Along with that peculiar $13, I’ve been paid:
Bottles of beer and wine.
A plate of cookies.
Lovely notes.
Gift certificates to restaurants.
A $1,000 check.
Nothing. Yeah, I’ve been stiffed.
Some clergy are like me and don’t have set charges for weddings (or other ceremonies). Many religious officiants probably have specific fees and can provide a clear answer. But what about people who aren’t part of any congregation, and want to pay for services rendered? I hope these three suggestions will help:
#1 Politely ask the person doing the ceremony about their fees. (Don’t be shy!) They tell you, and that’s what you pay them.
#2 Either a minister doesn’t have set fees or you just want to do the right thing without asking. Here are factors to consider when guessing what to pay:
Will the ceremony take hours or minutes?
How often will you meet with the minister before the event? Once? More?
Is there premarital counseling? Once? More?
Is there a rehearsal?
How much travel time is required?
Where do you live? Costs are different in small towns versus big cities.
#3 Give yourself. Which is to say, tucked in my desk, are cards thanking me for being a part of a person’s life during a wedding (or funerals, baptisms, hospital visits, and more). Personal notes are treasures.
When I discussed my role with the future newlyweds, I reminded them that I’m the one professional involved in the wedding you can contact later for support. A traditional wedding’s vow of for better or for worse is based on reality. The worst happens. Talking with a professional who knows you may prove helpful.
Remember that beer on the list of my payments? As a young associate minister, I had next door neighbors barely making ends meet. We had fun—and cheap—dinners together. We swapped stories about this and that, including the beer I enjoyed after a backpack. They asked me to marry them. It was a low-key ceremony. Because their finances were tight, they gave me a six-pack of my favorite brew and a lovely note. Perfect.
I’ve probably disappointed anyone wanting an easy answer like paying clergy a hundred bucks an hour or a set fee of $5,000. There are too many variables for me in Fresno, California to tell someone living in rural New Mexico or in metro Chicago that XYZ is the right amount. As with everything that matters in life, our willingness to talk and ask and listen is essential.
Simple or elaborate, with hundreds of guests or a handful, I hope every celebration goes well.
(And don’t forget to pay the pastor.)
Thanks for reading. More next week . . .
in Peace,
Larry Patten
Photo by Kari Bjorn Photography on Unsplash